Sick Baby
by A. E. Stover
Summary: [AU] Jean, being the good person he's trying to be, decides to take care of Eren's diseased self while Mikasa's away. But then he gets sick. And then Marco gets sick. And I'm sick. It's just about people being sick and miserable because I'm sick and miserable. Yay. I mean, not yay.


_**SICK BABY**_  
written by **A. E. Stover  
**this version is **not edited**

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I'm sick and all my JeanMarco fics are "slow build" and too full of angst for the cute sappy shit I really want, so I tried writing sick!Marco with Jean as his loving roommate, but halfway my Marco started acting like Eren so now it's Eren and Jean who are roommates and I JUST WANT JEANMARCO WHY CAN'T I WRITE JEANMARCO?

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"_Hah _— HAH-_TSS!"_

The blanketed bump on the bed jolted with the sneeze, and a hand quickly shot out to blindly slap against the night stand.

Jean pushed the tissue box closer, his glasses sliding down his face as he leaned over to help his roommate.

The hand fumbled around the cardboard corners before inching its way up to the top. It finally snagged a tissue out of the box and disappeared underneath the blanket. A wet trumpeting sounded from underneath the heavy duvet, followed by a weak cough and a miserable sigh.

The used tissue did not reappear from the blanket. As Jean focused his attention on his book, he tried not to think about how many snot-filled tissues his roommate was currently hoarding.

(The answer was thirteen.)

Finally, a corner of the duvet flopped back, and Eren pushed his sweaty face out onto a pillow. From the corner of his eye, Jean caught sight of two wadded tissues bring flicked off the bed. "Jean."

"My head hurts."

"Okay."

"I'm also... really, really nauseous."

"That sucks."

"I can't move my head without feeling dizzy."

"That happens sometimes."

"But... if I just lay here. The headache is like. My head's gonna split open, or something."

"Sucks to be you."

"...Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"I think the antibiotics are trying to kill me."

Jean quickly made a note on the side of his book as he skimmed the rest of the passage he was on. "You were supposed to take them with food."

"How am I supposed to eat when I'm nauseous?" Sighing loudly, Eren kicked the heavy blanket off him and revealed a tiny village of used tissues in various stages of snot-filled wetness. Jean's hand inched toward the drawer that held his stash of disposable surgical masks he only bought because Eren Jaeger turned into a fucking disgusting baby when sick.

To prove his point, Eren dragged the blankets back over him with a loud whining cry. "First my sinuses tried to kill me, and now my antibiotics are trying to kill me." Eren tried a sniff that sounded like he was trying too hard to snort up cocaine. The bump on the bed moved, straightening out into a log. "All I wanted was to get better. Is that too much to ask for?"

Jean made a few more notes in the margins of the page he was still on. "Did you take the reflux med today?"

Eren gave a stuffy sniff. "...No."

Jean turned away from the book to look instead at the sick lump across the room. "Then take it and quit whining already."

"I tried! But the pill floats in my mouth—"

"What."

"—because it's lighter than water! I tried taking it with a banana, but that didn't work either!"

Jean gave his roommate a long stare. "Why?"

Eren tried to scowl; it sounded like a toddler trying to hiss like a snake instead. "I just told you — Because it floats in water and I can't swallow it."

Jean clicked his tongue. "_No,_ I'm talking about the— Eren, you're allergic to bananas."

"I didn't have any applesauce!" came the mournful reply.

Jean pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eren, how long ago did you have that banana?"

"...About an hour ago."

Jean let himself be relieved. If Eren was going to die from a banana, symptoms would've started up a long time ago. Judging by how whiny Eren was at the moment, there would be no banana-induced trips to the ER.

As if reading his thoughts, Eren continued. "Relax, horseface. It was just one bite. And, well, I was on the crapper for, like, forever, with shit spewing out like hot lava—"

Jean closed his book and shut his eyes. "Eren."

"—So now my asshole feels like I rubbed chile peppers on it, and—"

"_Eren._ TMI!"

"You're the one who asked, fuckface."

"You could've just said you had the runs!"

"Shut up! I'm sick! I can't think right now!" Eren dissolved into a series of hacking coughs in which it sounded like a good chunk of his lung had been caught in his throat and was now being spat out onto a kleenex. To Jean's great horror, Eren just tossed the tissue on the floor.

Jean grabbed his book and pushed himself away from his desk.

Eren peeked over the cover of his blanket. "Hey, where're you going?"

Jean hurriedly pulled on a clean sweater and grabbed his jacket from the closet. "Marco's. And away from your diseased ass."

Eren chucked the blanket off his head. "You can't just leave me like this! What if I need—"

"Then I guess you're gonna die," Jean bit out as he wrapped a scarf around him. "See ya."

"Wait!"

Jean hesitated at the doorway. He peered behind him to see Eren struggling to sit up. More wadded up tissues tumbled out around him, and Jean resisted the urge to set fire to the whole dorm. "What."

Eren grabbed his blanket and coughed wetly into it. "Can you bring back some Jolly Ranchers?"

Jean stared at him. "Jolly Ranches."

"Yeah. I want candy."

"...Okay," Jean only said as he left as quickly as he could.

He was shoving his feet into his boots when a coughing fit suddenly overcame him. He buried his face into his hands and squeezed the sides of his head upon the realization that that disgusting sick baby had gotten him sick.

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Marco wrinkled his nose when Jean had finished talking. "Wow, that's really, um..."

"Fucking disgusting?" Jean finished for him.

"_Expected_, was what I was going to say."

"Liar," Jean murmured, turning on his side and reaching his arms out to Marco. He wrapped his arms around Marco, nuzzling his face into Marco's stomach. "Quit trying to be so polite all the time."

Marco hummed thoughtfully, a hand running gently through Jean's hair. "Well, you wouldn't have grown to be so civil without me."

"Hm?" Jean turned to look up at Marco, feeling a leering grin stretch across his face. "Really, now? So you think you've tamed me or something?"

At that, Marco laughed. "For the most part," he said, then Marco leaned over to press his lips against Jean's for a chaste kiss.

Before Jean could snake his hand into Marco's hair to keep the two of them close, Marco pulled back. Just enough for them to look into each other's eyes. Marco pressed his forehead to Jean's, the look in his eyes warm and loving. "I'm still working on taming this part of you."

Jean chuckled, his hands coming up to tangle fingers into black hair. "I'd love to see you try."

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Eren set two steaming bowls of soup on the coffee table and scowled as he straightened up. "Why do I have to play nurse for you? Not you, Marco. I'd give my left arm for you anytime, anywhere."

Marco smiled weakly as he took the soup into his hands. "Thanks."

Eren jutted his chin out at the coughing sap seated next to Marco. "I'm talking about the horseshit that's staining your life."

Jean growled. "Okay, one? I nursed you back to health. Two? I nursed you back to health. And three? I fucking _nursed you back to health._ Not Mikasa, not Armin. Me. Jean fucking Kirschstein."

"You just sat there and berated my suffering ass!"

"That's because you don't follow instructions! You don't take your meds on time, you don't take the right dosage, you don't eat when you're supposed to—"

"I was nauseous!"

"You stuffed yourself with Jolly Ranchers! You weren't nauseous, you were being a fucking baby!"

Marco patted Jean's shoulder. "Jean, your soup's going to get cold."

Jean sulked. "Let it get cold. Eren probably mixed ex-lax into my soup. Why the hell is it brown?"

"It's beef broth! With onions and potatoes! And it's Sasha's recipe, not mine! Just fucking take it and get better already, god!"

"Stop shouting," scolded a stern voice that could only belong to Mikasa. "You're not helping them by shouting. Whatever it's about, take care of it after you're all better."

"You mean when they're all better," Eren amended bitterly. The amendment was received poorly, especially after Eren sniffled loudly.

Mikasa sighed and pointed to the kitchen. "Go get a bowl for yourself. You'll get sick again if you keep this up. And stay on your antibiotic regimen."

"But I'll all better—"

Mikasa narrowed her eyes. "Eren."

"Okay, fine. God, I hate all of you. And I hate those pills. Why do they hafta be so fucking big?"

Eren's string of complaints faded in the distance as he disappeared into the kitchen, and Mikasa turned toward the sick couple on the couch.

"Sorry. I thought he'd behave. I won't bring him next time."

"It's alright," Marco insisted, ignoring the horrified glare Jean was shooting at him. "Thank you for stopping by."

"It's no trouble. You took care of Eren when I couldn't." This, she was saying to Jean. "Thank you."

Jean shrugged and shrunk himself into the couch. "It was nothing."

Mikasa patted his blanketed knee before gently pushing the bowl forward. "Eat. Then get some rest."

Jean grunted his appreciation as Mikasa returned to the kitchen to find Eren. He pushed his arms out of the blanket and grabbed his bowl of soup along with the spoon. He slurped the broth straight from the bowl before spooning the beef and potatoes into his mouth.

"It's better than when I made it last time," Marco mused, a faint smile on his face. "I wonder if she added something to it that I missed..."

"It tastes the same to me."

"Does it?"

"More or less, yeah."

Marco smiled. "I thought you couldn't taste anything because of your cold."

Jean made a face. He gulped down another mouthful right from the bowl. They finished their meal in peaceful silence and stacked their empty bowls on the coffee table. Marco flicked through the channels as Jean rested his head against the back of the couch, turning occasionally to the side to cough into his elbow.

They'd settled on a re-run of Friends after a while, leaning into each other's warmth. Underneath the blanket, Jean found Marco's hand and gently knit their fingers together. Marco squeezed his hand in return. They stayed that way for a while, the echoes from the old sitcom filtering out of their consciousness as they started to doze off in their shared comfort.

And then Eren came out of the kitchen shook them both awake.

"I need to throw up. Where's your bathroom?"

Jean buried his face in Marco's shoulder to muffle his curse as Marco replied groggily.

Eren rushed away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the couple's peace and disturbing their rest further with dry heaving that eventually gave way to heavy retching.

Marco rested his head on Jean's and sighed. "Let's hope it's the antibiotics and not the flu."

"Knowing Eren, it's probably both."

"I really hope it's the antibiotics. I've gone six years without getting the flu. I'd like to stay that way."

Jean raised his head to peck Marco's cheek. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of you, babe."

Marco laughed. "By calling up Mikasa?"

Jean only grinned.

And Eren retched.


End file.
